Narcissistic Branches of the Family Tree
by brokenhomes
Summary: Rachel doesn't understand why Quinn is having a sudden change of heart. Or why everytime that their eyes meet she gets this feeling that a lot happened over the summer that she, for some reason, can't remember. AU Quinn/Rachel


**Hello! This is my first try at writing a Glee fanfiction so I hope it pleases you all. Criticism is highly appreciated, good or bad, it doesn't matter. As long as I can improve the story to everyone's liking. Feel free to point out anything that you liked or anything that you didn't, and any ideas or suspicions you may have about the future of the story you may also share. I'd love to see what you're thinking. I am highly inexperienced in the art of writing considering the fact that I'm only a freshman. Help me improve!**

**I enjoy writing Quinn as a girl with a troubled life at home. Especially with her father because it will sooner or later play out in the story. I like to distinguish the names of certain things by writing them in bold. And I like to use the full names of the kids for some reason. Leave your judgement at home folks!**

**This is partially AU. In this story, imagine if Glee started when they were all freshman, not sophmores, so they are currently in their junior year. Quinn was never pregnant, but everything that happened in season 1 is pretty much the same until proven different. Santana and Brittany aren't so- for lack of a better word- slutty. They've really only slept with eachother and they have been out for about a year. The whole hot mess with Jesse St. James and Sunshine isn't really a part of this story.**

**Disclaimer: No.**

**Don't just favorite the story! Write a review that can keep me going and put a smile on my face!**

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><p><strong>August 22, 2011 <strong>

**11:36 P.M.**

**Summer before Junior Year**

_**You're just like him.**_

The words swam hauntingly through her mind as she progressed through the unknown neighborhood. The words had stung at an unbelievable degree. She knew she was a bully; however, she didn't realize that everyone thought so lowly of her. Her own mother had pointed out the flaw that she has become, the flaw that inflicts damage in the life of young people who need to be accumulating their self-esteem, not deteriorating it. As her feet glided across the sidewalk she strayed away from the grass surrounding its borders. She thought about all the people she had hurt in the past two years, all the people she had slushied without a second thought, all the times she wished she could've stood up for the people who were too damaged to do so, and she came to one sole conclusion.

A conclusion that she knew would be strenuous to work towards. A conclusion that, when achieved, no one would believe.

She knew that if the roles were to have been reversed, she wouldn't believe it either. But she knew that something had to be done.

And that's exactly what she was doing.

She had cut her hair over the summer, and rekindled her bestfriendship with Santana and her_** girlfriend **_Brittany. It didn't really come as a shock to Quinn, but the way that Santana had looked, so carefree and attitude-less by Brittany's side, it just shows that she wasn't the only one looking to make a change. The summer between sophmore and junior year might as well have been the best of Quinn's life.

And if it wasn't the best then it sure as hell was the most enlightening.

She pushed her hands agressively into her jean's pockets, striding gracefully along the road, long stride by long stride, growing more tentative as she approached her destination. She knew that what she was doing wasn't just because of the verbal slap in the face she had received months ago, although that had certaintly been a shove in the right direction; a pointer, if you will.

She had always wanted to cut the crap, but how could she?

She was a Fabray. The daughter of one of the most powerful families in all of Lima. She was supposed to be the head cheerleader, the popular girl, the person that could be picked out of a lineup instantaneously. It was just in her nature, something she was born into. But of all the things she was _**supposed**_ to do, she couldn't point out one thing that she actually _**wanted **_to do.

Although it provided a good lesson on responsibility and leadership- and also informed Quinn about just what brand of insane Sue Sylvester really was- it wasn't something that Quinn ever wanted. Sure, the exercise did wonders on her body; however, in the end, she didn't want to be head cheerleader. She didn't want to be a cheerleader at all.

She just wanted to be normal, another kid in the crowd. She wanted people to know her like Santana knew her, or how she knew herself.

Quinn Fabray, proud glee club background swayer and mysterious book-worm, trying to secretly charm the pants off the world and everyone in it since 1995.

So far, she was doing a hell of a horrible job.

But all the bullshit ends today.

And as she trudged along the driveway of an distinctly familiar home, she knew that the road to forgiveness was a long and arduous one, but not one that couldn't be ventured.

With two passionate, timid strides toward the front door, she stood in front of it, not knowing what exactly she should do next. With a quick glance at her watch she concluded that it was _**way**_ too late to be knocking on anyone's door, but she knew that if she backed out now, she wouldn't be coming back.

And this was something that Quinn needed to do, not for the sake of her victim, but for her own sake. She contemplated her next move and decided to disturb the serenity that surrounded the snug home.

_**Knock, knock.**_

It only took a hand delicately grazing on the surface of a wooden door to alternate the balance of a girl's life.

She stood silently on the foreign porch and studied the surface of the home intently, on the one hand because she was nervous, and on the other because she felt a strange desire to remember as much of this moment as she could. She took it all in: the house number, the street name, the words underneath her on the welcome mat, and the intricately placed words that stared back at her.

_**13825**_

_**Wickety Rd.**_

_**If It Ain't Human, It Ain't Welcome!**_

_**Berry residence**_

Her breaths came out unevenly as she heard noise on the other side of the door. Her hands flew up nervously to adjust the beanie on her head, her bangs plastered to her forehead as she perspired, the weather becoming unusually humid at such a late hour.

The door swung open to reveal a short, slightly scruffy brunette wearing nothing but pink star-studded pants and a thin shirt. She looked utterly baffled at the sudden appearance of a blonde teenager at her door at such a time. Quinn met her eyes hesitatingly after it became dishearteningly obvious that staring holes into the ground wasn't going to make it open up and swallow her whole.

Though that she would've preferred.

She didn't know who it shocked more, but as she opened her mouth with words she knew she could never take back, she suddenly felt as if the girl who was half a foot shorter then her was looming over her, staring cautiously with inquisitive eyes.

"I'm sorry," Quinn blurted, as if the apology had tasted foul in her mouth and she just wanted to rid her taste buds of it.

Apparently, Quinnie was feeling a bit blunt today. _**Great**_.

Rachel's face contorted into one of curious displeasure. She responded to Quinn as if the abrupt apology was left unheard.

"Quinn what are you doing here? It's almost midnight and I'm required to sleep at least eight hours every night to wake up with my natural glow."

Quinn studied the girl in front of her carefully, as if any swift eye movements would cause damage to the perfection known as Rachel Berry. She took a deep breath and hooked her thumbs in her back pockets. She decided to take a different approach to this whole apology thing, considering how new and holy the concept was to her. Quinn offhandedly poured her heart out on Rachel Berry's porch that night.

There was a catch, though.

Rachel had no idea what was happening.

Or just how fragile this moment really was.

She would eventually realize just what Quinn was going on about surreptitiously, and if you asked Quinn, it all happened according to plan.

A miraculous realization, so to speak.

"_**Spring Awakening**_; gold, but you prefer pink; you wish your eyes were blue because you know that every person with blue eyes is in some tiny way related to anyone else with blue eyes, and you just can't give up the opportunity to have as much family support as you can considering your destiny to be a _**Broadway**_ star," At this point, Rachel was completely awestruck at all of the information aimlessly spewing from Quinn's mouth. Why was Quinn telling her things that she obviously knew about herself? And more importantly, what did this mean? And how does Quinn know all of this? Why would she even bother remembering?

"You're a vegan, but sometimes you can't help but eat a couple of scoops of chocolate ice cream, it's the only guilty pleasure you've given a title to: _**Rachel Berry's Anti-Vegan Extraveganza**_," Rachel spoke at this moment for reasons still unknown to her, "And what other guilty pleasures are you implying I might have?"

Quinn grinned wickedly, and ducked her head, realizing that she was rambling, but unable to muster up the need to care. She was on Rachel's porch for God's sake, talking on and on about Rachel's guilty pleasures; she knew that Rachel liked to talk about herself but Quinn thinks that she might've crossed the line on this one.

Yet again, though, the need to care seemed to have vanished.

"Do you really want to get into that right now?" Rachel frowned pensively, and at that, Quinn finished her seemingly pointless conversation.

"You '_trim your hair to perfection_' periodically every first sunday of the month; August 22, 1995," Quinn stated the date as if it was something normal to throw into an everyday converstaion. Her voice softened a considerable amount as she slowly strung out her next few words, "Happy Birthday, Rachel."

Rachel looked up at her from where she had been staring at the ground. Wide, still-curious-yet-now-seemingly-understanding brown eyes met droopy, apologetic, soft, hazel ones. The colors clashed together hysterically. A silent moment waded between them, folding snugly around all the creases of their bodies and filling the empty spaces that words could never seem to fill. The silence that followed Quinn's statement was heavy, but the refound glint in Rachel's eye and the miniature grin that cracked her face spoke volumes better then any of her words ever could. The blush that crept silently across her face was just icing on the metaphorically delicious cake.

"Thank you. I didn't really think you'd remember anything about me other then the noises I make as you attack me with a colored cold beverage." Rachel had taken to calling slushies '_colored cold beverages_.' She has forever restrained from saying the proper name.

Contrary to popular belief, though, Quinn listened to everything Rachel said. Every. Single. Thing. And that was a lot of fucking information, mind you. But she couldn't help but feel hurt and slightly weighed down by Rachel's words. The number of slushy assualts had decreased dramatically reaching the end of sophmore year. As she realized who she really wanted to be, Quinn didn't see the point in bringing other people down to her level of pathetic.

Just because she hated herself didn't give her the right to make everyone hate themselves too. Or hate her, for that matter.

Quinn pressed her lips together in a straight line and took a tentative step forward so that the tips of her toes aligned with the opening of the door. One more step and she would've crossed the threshold into Rachel's home.

"You'll never have to make that noise again." Quinn leaned forward at the waist as she said this, her _**Vans** _sinking slowly in the material of the welcome mat. She spoke as if she was gushing out the latest gossip. She threw a warm grin in Rachel's direction. The girl was at a loss for words. She thinks it's an apology, but with Quinn Fabray one can never be sure of anything. Rachel appreciates the kind gesture of physically reaching out to her and apologizing, but if Quinn expected Rachel to forgive her and put the past behind them then she had another thing coming. But even as those thoughts flitted through the brunette's mind she knew that this wasn't the last kind gesture that was going to be flung in her direction by the blonde.

Hazel eyes twinkled under the lights inside the house, brown eyes gazed back quizically. There was a double meaning to this entire conversation, she was sure of it. Come tomorrow things will probably be the same, reasoned Rachel. Quinn was probably there trying to convince the brunette that she would be safe, only to blindside her with a slushy attack as she entered the school tomorrow.

Rachel was bright, but failing to see the bad in some people can make you pretty stupid. As much as she loved her boyfriend, she really didn't want to pull a _**Finn**_.

Poor boy was denser then _**Iridium**_. That thought in itself spoke volumes about him.

"Have a good one, Rachel Berry."

The way that Quinn stated her full name seemed borderline playful. Rachel was nevertheless intrigued by this conversation. The brunette stood by her door for longer than normal, taking in Quinn's atire and grace as she descended the porch steps. The black beanie that plastered her short hair to her forehead made her eyes ever more vibrant than usual, and the snug t-shirt and skinny jeans accentuated her curves casually. Rachel had expected a sundress and a cross around her neck.

She liked what she saw more.

And as for the conversation that unexpectedly went down tonight on Rachel's annual celebration of her escape from the womb, she still couldn't wrap her mind around what had been said; rather, left unsaid.

It was obvious to Rachel that:

_1._ Quinn was practicing for the day when she becomes the new official host of _**Punk'd.**_

_2._ She came to allegedly apologize- rather cryptically, Rachel must say- only to slushy Rachel come tomorrow morning and call her out on her gullibilty.

_3._ Quinn had come with sincere intentions and had actually mustered up the courage to apologize to Rachel for the past. If this was the case then Rachel applauds her creative tactic and wishes to perhaps set up a _**PowerPoint**_ with this creative creature sometime, she seems like she can give a few good pointers.

Or, one of the less believable but still in-the-running, options:

_4._ Pod people had landed on Earth and had set their sights on Quinn, abducting her from her foul personality and need to act violently towards others, and instead, leaving behind a much more respectable Quinn. Or,

_5._She has come in contact with _**The**_ _**Crack**_.

If Rachel was feeling sketchy she would've believed the first and fourth options; however, common sense is her motto so she has come to the conclusion that the second and last ones are probably closer to the truth.

Quinn's eyes did seem a tad red; and besides, if pod people had somehow invaded the earth, why wouldn't they come for Rachel first?

She was suitable abduction material. She _**has**_ been preparing for an alien encounter, after all. And as witnessed today, anything is possible.

Quinn was Rachel's very own box of chocolates, she never did know what she was gonna get.

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><p><strong>August 23, 2011<strong>

**3:04 P.M.**

**Junior Year**

Tina comprehended education. She may even go out on a limb and say that she also understood love, because if what she had with Mike wasn't love then she didn't know what was. But of all the things she eventually came to wrap her mind around, she still couldn't wrap her mind around one sole subject.

Quinn Fabray.

Tina had always been partially petrified of the blonde head cheerleader. If it wasn't the slushies that the girl lunged at others, it was the conniving smirk she sent at her minions from across the hall. Her game face, so to speak.

But thinking back to all the evil things Quinn had ever done to her, her mind comes up blank. She had never particularly been afraid of the blonde herself, but only of the horrors she heard from her friends. Come to think of it, Kurt had never been targeted that much either.

Why Quinn spared her of a freezing embarrasment was beyond her. But when the blonde girl had shown up at Puck's _**Summer Bash**_- as Kurt so flamboyantly named it- Tina knew that something had changed. As if the _**Space Time Continuum **_itself had stirred and come to life, throwing its own personal slushy on Quinn Fabray that rid her of her hatred towards the world. Quinn had walked up to her and Kurt and had apologized, pouring her heart out and explaining why she had done what she had. Tina had forgiven her immediately, but gaining the trust of Kurt was a much more complex task. A task that Quinn had accomplished gracefully, though; because that girl was nothing if not graceful.

"Welcome back guys! How was your summer?" Will questioned excitedly as he walked into the choir room, the scarf around his neck making him look boyish.

"Long."

"Hot."

"Unusualy wet."

"It sounds like you guys are directing a porno in here or something." Quinn says as she steps into the choir room sheepishly with Finn at her side. They fist-bumped and went their seperate ways, Quinn to Santana and Brittany; Finn to Puck and Rachel. Santana wore something similar to Quinn, skinny jeans and a t-shirt; however, Brittany sported a Cheerio's uniform. She was _**William McKinley's** _new head Cheerio, and Santana couldn't possibly be more proud of her.

Rachel, however, was confused at this apparently new development between her boyfriend and his ex-girlfriend. How come Finn had never mentioned that him and Quinn were talking again? Or the fact that they had become friends, no less. She shrugged it off and decided to question him about it later.

She met Quinn's eyes from across the room, an unusual image flashed through her mind of those same eyes hovering above her, ten shades darker. Rachel frowned at this, thinking back to the only times she had seen Quinn over the summer. First, in the beginning of the summer at Puck's party, and second, when the blonde had mysteriously appeared at her door last night to discreetly apologize. That was a span of about two months.

She could tell that a _**lot**_ has changed.

"Try to refrain from the inappropriate comments Quinn, we are going to be way too busy this year preparing for _**Nationals**_ to be thinking about such a thing," Santana- her need to lash out at others gone but her snarky comments still healthily intact- smirked at this, "Not getting any action from the ginger Mr. Shue?"

Will physically reddened at this proposed question.

"Santana I don't really think that sharing things about my life with Emma is appro-"

" I think it's in everybody's best interest if you kept your mouth shut, because anything you say, can, and will be held against you in the confines of Santana's foul mind," Quipped Kurt who had become exceptionally close to the Latina over the summer. Being gay has the ability to mend the differences between people.

At least, those are the kinds of bizarre things that happen within the intricate glee club called the _**New Directions**_.

Will clears his throat quickly, "We're going to have weekly lessons starting tomorrow, and from there we are going to pick the best songs, original or not, and we're going to use them at _**Sectionals**_," Rachel raises her hand quickly, "Rachel?" The brunette nods to herself with a satisfied grin on her face as she stands next to Will at the front of the room, "Fellow glee clubbers, because of our loss at nationals last year and the fact that it was solely Finn and I's fault, I am hereby turning in my metaphorical uniform and resigning from my position as captain of the glee club."

The silence that followed was deafening.

"_Se volvio loca_," Rachel looked quizically at Santana who had her mouth hung open slightly, staring blankly ahead as her head rested on Brittany's shoulder. Brittany- who has permanently claimed residence on Santana's lap- looked at Rachel with a wide smile.

"Silly little Jewish girl who likes to sing _**Barbra**_, did you really think it would be that easy?" Brittany's ability to make such an incomprehensibly odd situation seem like a joyous time to recite movie lines is probably why everyone admires the naivety the girl possesses, also one of the many ways she's been able to claim such a large amount of Santana's heart. Nobody was shocked when it was the blonde's girlfriend who played along with her obscenities, "You know, for a second there... yeah, she kinda did."

Anyone in their right mind who had actually seen the movie burst into controlled laughter. The snickering faded when the kids took in the face of their captain. Rachel remained unphased by the sudden emotional shift in the room, partially because she did not think that her relinquishing of glee club captaincy was funny business, and also because she was one of the three people that had no idea what was unfolding before her. Finn and Kurt were as clueless as she was. Everyone understood why Kurt would be lost, it was obviously not his type of movie. But Finn? To think the boy had at least an ounce of purpose within him. Hmm.

"This is not a joking matter! After our decision to give up our positions, Finn and I thought about who should take a step into our shoes and lead this club to the delicious victory we've already come so close to tasting," Rachel took a deep breath, ever the more dramatically, and continued, "Santana should be captain, and Puck should be her male lead."

"No offense Berry, but I can't fit my feet into your dwarf shoes," Rachel rolled her eyes and ignored her crude comment. The two brunettes had surprisingly gotten along over the summer. Rachel was the first person Santana had opened up to, for reasons unknown to anyone other than the Latina and her girlfriend. Quinn had decided to stay out of it after being requested to hangout with them once. She told Santana that she needed some time to figure things out and find her own way to apologize to Rachel, because as harsh as Santana was to everybody that existed, Quinn treated Rachel as if she meant absolutely nothing to her.

The thinking that happens in your bed when you are unable to sleep can really change your perspective on things.

Hell, for Quinn, it changed _**everything**_.

"Yeah bro, my shoulders are a little too wide to fit into your shoulder pads," Puck shrugged nonchalantly, taking the same approach as Santana. They obviously wanted no part in leading the glee club to whatever food adventure Rachel had rambled on about. If they were all to be honest with themselves, everybody wanted Rachel and Finn to remain captains because they were the only ones capable of doing so. Sure, Santana can kick ass with her voice; and Puck can make the ladies swoon with his boyish swagger and guitar playing, but Santana couldn't compare to Rachel.

Everyone knew that. Even Santana admited it, which came as a shock to everyone in the vicinity.

Rachel was baffled, "But we are practically begging you take take the reigns and contribute majorly to decisions made in this club. Why turn down the power to rule over a group of people willingly?" Puck met Santana's eyes from across the room and through their odd _lesbro connection_, they both came to the same conclusion.

"Look Rachel, you're my favorite Jew and I really like it when girls beg for me to take control," Kurt kicked the back of Puck's chair, violently urging the boy to get to the point, "But even though I'm capital B, badass, and Santana's my bro, we all know that you and Finn make this club work. So you, my _**Jewish-American Princess**_, can sit your hot self down and continue being the one thing this club needs. A captain."

"Preach," Claimed Arite, his fist pounding the air above him in appreciation of his friend's truthful words. Will nodded his head slowly, "Puck's surprisingly right Rachel," Puck shrugged one shoulder and tilted his head to the side cockily, a satisfied smirk on his face, "You and Finn have been leading this club for two years, why should anything change now?"

Quinn has always been a generally observant person. But as of late, she has been silently sitting on the sidelines of her life and taking each moment of her life slowly. Graceful stride by graceful stride.

She thought before she spoke, she analyzed the words that were directed towards her and the emotion behind those words, and with all this processing, came a sense of understanding with whomever she was talking to. Quinn had learned when to use her words and she had learned when to keep quiet and let the silence seperate the truth from the lies.

At this particular moment, though; no words had to be spoken. She sat by idly and she observed. Quinn stopped seeing Rachel as a whole for one moment and took in the various shapes and colors that made up the girl. She picked out the odd from the normal. In Rachel Berry's standards, anyway.

The blonde failed to find the glint in Rachel's eyes that always seemed to be there, the only star twinkling in the space of her brown orbs. The lines around her mouth have been creased for the better part of the lesson, signifying that Rachel has yet to blind someone with her brilliant smile.

But the way that her shoulders slump when Puck and Santana decline her unusually generous offer, makes Quinn believe that there's an ulterior motive to her sudden resignation. To sum it all up into one simple sentence:

Rachel looks _**exhausted**_.

And as Quinn watches Rachel return to her seat next to Finn, she glances quickly at Santana. Her bestfriend seems to have the same suspicion because her eyes are also curiously following Rachel's every move. When Santana's eyes finally meet Quinn's, they come to the same conclusion.

They finally figure out that Rachel Berry doesn't crawl to others for help.

But that others have to crawl to help Rachel Berry.

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><p><strong>"<em>Se volvio loca<em>." Means:**

**"She's gone crazy."**

**Review!**


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